


And He'll Come Along

by HandsAcrossTheSea



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Cybernetics, Blowjobs, Bottom Kerry Eurodyne, Established Relationship, M/M, Wall Sex, the author has chosen to ignore canon not once but twice now and regrets nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:00:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29659311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandsAcrossTheSea/pseuds/HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: Kerry wonders if his husband actually wants to be married to one of the world's biggest rock stars, or if V is just really good at pretending.Turns out, he's got absolutely nothing to worry about.
Relationships: Kerry Eurodyne/Male V
Comments: 5
Kudos: 124





	And He'll Come Along

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, the ending of this game left my heart broken and it didn't sit well with me at all. Then I played Don't Fear The Reaper, and instead of leaving me with closure, it just broke me in two AGAIN. So yeah, I decided to hell with canon. I wanted so, so much more of V and Kerry's relationship, so I'm just going to make up my own where they can't get hurt, at least not very much. And that's what I'm doing. Usual apologies for characterization but it's fiction and I am an indulgent sort, so... if you don't like this, I'm sorry, I guess? I'm just horny and want boys to have nice things. And that includes a happily ever after.

Kerry has decided that if the CBI job ever goes tits up, then he is absolutely going to get his husband a sitdown with the guys from Adonis, cause the ridiculously tiny pair of swim shorts that V’s wearing with their brand name across the waistband? Picture fucking perfect. Which means that any work he’s trying to get done, well, it’s going down the shitter. Sure, today is launch day for Eurotrip - not the name he picked but since he got to name the first six, he’ll let the label have this one - but he’s not gonna rest on his laurels. So yeah, he’s working. And ogling his husband’s firm, shapely ass, stretched out on a lounger next to the pool that’s finally fucking seeing some regular use. V’s asleep, tanning, and looking happier than he has in months now, and Kerry just wants to bask with him that good feeling.

Thing is, he woke up with a worm of an idea, and had been up and at it for three hours before V ever rolled over. Try as he might to paw at him, Kerry wouldn’t let him, not until he worked his way through at least  _ some  _ of what he was hearing. Now, of course, he’s stupidly horny, V is doing his best impression of a sun god, and Kerry doesn’t want to interrupt him. Except for the fact that he kind of does. He sighs, sets aside his notebook and pencil, and then heads inside. The temptation to touch V is real, but he’s also coated in tanning oil. He could write something obscene with his fingertip in it, but V is also the one who fucks his brains out. Best not to do anything to remove that perk. He’s not actually sure if V  _ would  _ but he’s not taking the risk. He goes down the stairs to the kitchen and pours himself a glass of ice water, gulping it down with greed. He’s shirtless too, but his shorts are almost too warm, too confining - maybe a dip in the pool for a few minutes would do him good. He takes them off and leaves them on the counter, pours himself another glass of water, grabs one for V, and heads back out to the pool, naked as can be. He didn’t even bother to check if Miguel was around - but it’s not like he hasn’t been naked in front of the staff before. It’s in the contract, after all.

None of them have walked in on him and V  _ yet,  _ but Kerry has absolutely answered questions with come leaking from his ass before. Ah well, at least it’s the same come over and over again. V is still snoozing when Kerry approaches - and because he’s Kerry, he spreads his legs and rests his nuts on V’s cheek, grinning like a loon when it takes V a second to realize what’s touching him. He knocks Kerry’s thigh, sits up, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. “There are about a million more polite ways to get someone’s attention.”

“Yeah, my hands are full - here.” He offers V a glass and sits on the lounger next to him, admiring the glow that V’s picked up. Sex on legs. In his bed. Fuck, maybe here on the lounger. Just there’s no lube or anything out here. “Wanna go for a swim?” 

“Sure - but why are you naked?” V checks him out, eyes all over, transfers the drink to his right hand to touch Kerry’s thigh. “You didn’t wake me up just for sex did you? Cause when I tried it this morning, you said you were  _ in the thrall of creativity.  _ So what, it’s the thrall of horniness now?” V isn’t mean about it, but Kerry does deserve every bit of the ribbing that he’s getting from him.

“No, I just… needed a break. Let the gears rest for a second.” He’s not going to let V be right, of course. Poking holes in his ego is one of V’s favorite pastimes, and alright, it’s good for Kerry too. “And it’s hot as fuck out here, and I hate swimming alone.” He leans in and steals an ice-cold kiss from V’s mouth, pushing his sunglasses up to get a better taste. “But if you absolutely insist on toasting your buns up here all on your own…”

“Just try and make me,” V says. He takes another long sip of water and stands before Kerry, shimmying the white shorts off and laying them in the spot he was previously occupying. His cock hangs heavy, soft, before Kerry’s eyes - and just as Kerry is about to lean forward and take him in his mouth, V’s running backwards and leaping into the pool, the challenge in his eyes. “Hey Ker, you were right-” he calls - “this  _ does _ feel pretty fucking good.” He disappears under the water and Kerry runs to jump in near him, watching V knife through the water around him before he  _ finally  _ comes within arm’s reach again.

“So, rockerboy - is this better than the alternative?” V swims right towards him and lets Kerry put his legs around his waist, drifting wherever the water takes them. Kerry rolls his eyes and cups the back of V’s head - not even the salt and chlorine taste of the pool is going to stop him. V lets him in right away, and whatever frazzled thoughts he might have had are immediately cauterized, stopped, the confusion cut through by the silky smoothness of V’s tongue sliding alongside his. Naked as they are, he can feel the rest of V’s body reacting to him as well, cock to cock. Kerry makes the most of that, rubbing himself off against V’s body without shame. 

“Won’t that clog the filter,” V teases and backs them against a sun-warmed wall, his hands under Kerry’s ass to support him. “Would hate to call the maintenance guy out here  _ again  _ for that.” He reconnects their kiss, pulled under by it, and Kerry moans with all the lethargic happiness in the world. Fuck, his guy knows how to make every part of his mouth light up. V lifts himself up out of the water after a while, leaves Kerry eye-level with his now very, very hard cock. “Think I deserve a second shot this morning, don’t you?”

Kerry kisses up the inside of his wet right thigh, nuzzling his balls at the apex of the motion. “Probably a third and a fourth, too.” Kerry looks up as he licks V’s cock from sac to tip - the salt he finds there isn’t from the pool this time. “But if you’re in such a forgiving mood…” He reaches for V’s nipples just as he swallows him down, the thickness of V close to jaw busting but hey, it’s just another one of the million reasons he’s got to love this man. V moans and winds his fingers through the strands of his wet hair, holding on tight as Kerry starts to work his own brand of magic on him.

Thank fuck for the privacy fence, otherwise… well, Kerry would still give his husband all the head he wanted by the pool. Because he loves him and well, he fucking likes sucking cock too. Particularly this one. V’s moans are music to him, deep, rumbly notes from his chest that make Kerry’s own dick throb. V got his nipples pierced not too long ago, so Kerry works them as he sucks V harder, farther, nearly touching his nose to his pubic hair. V’s not so much long as he is thick, and it suits Kerry fine; any dick is a good dick, so far as he’s concerned, but God, he’s addicted to this one. The man it’s attached to? Even more. Fuck, he always wants to make him feel this good, could do it twenty four fucking seven.

“Shit,  _ Ker-”  _ the tightening up of the grip in his hair, yeah, Kerry knows what that means. He sucks like his life depends on it, fast, practiced, messes with V’s nipples until his hips cant forward and Kerry takes his load right down the back of his throat, salty, full,  _ satisfying.  _ Kerry lets him go the instant that V dips his head to lick his own taste from his mouth, and then hauls Kerry out of the water to put him on the pool’s edge. “Hands and knees, baby.” Fuck, yeah, alright - he can do that.

Kerry obeys, feels the water as it drips off his nuts and down his thighs. He goes down on his forearms, ass stuck out for his husband. Feels V’s hand around his cock to milk him, his mouth to his ass and nuts. He sucks one at a time into his mouth as he strokes, makes a slow trip northward to his hole to lick, no,  _ feast  _ there. Feels so goddamned good that Kerry sees stars and moon all together, his husband playing his body with expertise. Pleasure races through his system, toe-curling good, making his fingers try to grab at the smooth stone that his pool is embedded in. V’s getting him close, and nothing’s really going to stop it at this point.

“Swallow me,” Kerry says, and V moves  _ fast,  _ turning himself so that Kerry’s dick slips right down his throat, and a couple of strong sucks is all it takes before Kerry’s brain fries completely with his orgasm, V’s hands keeping him anchored right  there.  Doesn’t let up until Kerry rolls off and slips back into the water to kiss him again. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Pretty sure you’ll get pretty much anything you want right now,” V says, content as can be. “But go ahead.”

“The launch party, for the album - I still haven’t said if I’m coming with someone and I know that… I know it’s not your thing, but fuck, I don’t wanna be on anyone else’s arm tonight. I’ll do my best to keep the cameras off of you.” Another kiss, just in case - one that V takes back eagerly.

“Ker, I’ve had guns waved in my face more times than I can count, watched  _ you  _ through a meltdown or two and been there to pick up the pieces after. ‘Course I’ll go with you - I’ll be straight with them, if I get hounded. Not like I do anything illegal.”

“Anymore,” Kerry says, and V shrugs. “You don’t do anything illegal  _ anymore. _ ”

“Sure, yeah - just don’t expect me to keep my hands to myself if anyone tries to get too comfy.” V bites his bottom lip -  _ fucking mine, is what you are. _

“Oh, baby - I wouldn’t want  _ anything  _ else.”

That’s what Kerry likes to fucking hear.

  
  


***

Kerry had been asked to come earlier than the actual start of the party - some bullshit about his agent wanting to talk, there was an exec who just  _ had  _ to talk to him, blah, blah, blah, blah. This is why he has people who handle this shit for him, and it doesn’t help that he was called away right in the fucking middle of, well,  _ fucking.  _ V had been balls deep inside him, the phone had rang, and he’d had to pull out before things got even messier than they were. He’s been pissy about it all fucking night, too - and the plug that V had shoved in him,  _ to keep you stretched for later, Ker, you know I hate unfinished business-  _ has seemingly only gotten tighter every time he walks. He’s in leather pants, so his dick is already choked the fuck off (V’s been taking over cooking a lot more, and Kerry isn’t hitting his treadmill as often as he should, so, you know, things don’t fit quite as right) and the plug nudges his prostate so that he grits his teeth without seeming reason. He could have stopped V, sure - but he’s also not going to have the patience to wait for V to prep him. Thank God for the magic fucking lube he found too, keeping thing everything oh so nice and slippery.

And… he’s not really complaining about having a little more meat on his bones. It’s better than being fueled on caffeine, adrenaline, and whatever he chooses to shovel down after a night of drinking. V’s not a bad cook, either, even taking time to learn some of the stuff his mom had made growing up - has the ingredients flown in from the Philippines. Takes Kerry back, way back, and it’s just really, really nice. Still. He’s three beers in and getting antsy - V’s still not here. He knows he had sent the car back to his place, V had  _ sworn  _ he’d be ready, and at some point, he’s got to play a couple songs. The band is all here, making the rounds, posing for photos - Kerry’s smiled so much this evening that his cheeks are starting to fucking hurt. 

Lance finds him, after a few more minutes. So far as agents are concerned, he’s always,  _ always  _ put Kerry first. No bullshit, tough on people who try to take advantage, and in the past, always had a warm body waiting for Kerry in his hotel room. Just going that extra mile. Sure, he does most of the same stuff nowadays, but he had been happy, to see Kerry settle down. As far as he can, anyway. “Nervous?” He’s managed to find a bowl of cheese fries, absolutely loaded with bacon - and a glass of water. Thank fucking Christ. He tilts his head to a quieter alcove, and Kerry’s security guy takes up the position so that they can have at least a few minutes of peace. “Not about playing, I hope, cause you guys sounded really fucking good in the soundcheck.” He leans back in his high-backed chair, stretching high and skywards.

“Nah, nah - just… my special guest. He’s not here yet.” Kerry’s been wearing the wedding ring for months, so obviously the paps know he’s married now - just not to  _ whom.  _ They’re gonna find out, and it means V is about to be splashed over every fucking blog, magazine, and social for the next three days, at least. Not much he can do about that, aside from be up front with them when they circle for the attack. “You know, Lance, I’ve been videoed, had my underwear stolen, my gate crashed, any fucking thing that these lunatics can think of - and that’s fine. I can handle that. But I’m fucking scared shitless that my husband’s gonna bolt when they find out who he is. V’s line of work, his face doesn’t need to be recognized.” This is one of those times where Kerry really, really wishes that he wasn’t who he was. Shit. He eats a few cheese fries and of course, they’re amazing, and not just because he’s buzzed and had to have been charming for the last two and a half hours.

“Then tell them, Kerry. You want to say ‘hey guys, no bullshit on this one’ - then tell them. Pretty sure your guy’s got enough pull to make any uh, nuisances go away. Doesn’t he?” Lance had been the only witness at the wedding, and Kerry had been cryptic about his line of work, for good reason. “Seriously, I’ll gather ‘em now. Do it on your own terms.” 

Options considered.... “Alright, fine. But tonight is about the album, not me and Vince… V.” What, he’s protective of him. Big time. “Can I finish these first?” He gestures to the fries, chowing down on another couple, moaning like he’s just… well, like V just hit his prostate. Which considering…

“Sure - just let me know when you’re ready. I’m gonna go grab a drink.” Lance gets up and gets a server to refill Kerry’s glass, and then he’s off, working his magic. Kerry finishes his fries and hangs near the bar, going over his riffs in his head. Gets through a song and a half, when a familiar, clear-sky and deep woods scent sits warm around his shoulders, followed by the welcome slide of his husband’s arm around his waist. Kerry could  _ melt. _

“Would you believe it I said I was late cause I lost my fucking shoe?” Kerry turns and looks at him and just… whoa.  _ Whoa.  _ V looks fucking  _ hot  _ in a tux, his scruff trimmed, his hair styled up, and the piercing in his left nostril gleams like sunlight. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the cameras starting to swivel his way, which means he’s got about four seconds to find his tongue. “What’s up?”

“Just… follow my lead.” Kerry stands up and takes V’s left hand, fingers threaded tightly. He looks at the guy from  _ Bassline,  _ eye contact and all. “Fellas, listen - I know that you all really fucking enjoy seeing me from whatever angle you can get, and in spite of what you think, I… see what’s written. Who’s the mystery man, why’s Kerry wearing a ring - it’s because I’m married, and this is my husband, V. Talk to me, ask me all the questions you want - but he’s off limits unless he says so.” The cameras click and flash, and V’s jaw steels. Just another few more minutes. “I can’t speak for him beyond that, but I love him and I want to keep it that way, so if you alienate us, pull any of your bullshit, then you’re out. No more exclusives, no more parties. I will have you thrown out personally.” He turns to V, licking his suddenly very dry lips. “And because I know that you’re going to keep trying until you get this picture-” He molds his body to V’s and kisses him, deep, soft, and it’s really just V’s breathing and his own heartbeat that he hears this time, with V kissing back and making Kerry feel like a million fucking dollars.

“I love you too, Ker.” V backs off with absolutely zero haste, and then puts his arm back around Kerry. “And I’ll answer any question they want. You guys may not like the answer, but we’ll chat.” He kisses Kerry on the cheek, quick, and then signals for the bartender. Kerry steps aside as V’s swamped, handling it with a coolness that he finds to be  _ painfully  _ sexy. Christ, his cock is fucking hard again, and V’s eyes meet his for just a moment, knowing exactly the effect he’s just had.

Yeah, Kerry is riding him into the fucking sunrise later.

For now, he’s got an album to keep hyping. At least he knows that V is there, waiting for him at the end.

***

By the time Kerry’s played through what he fucking hopes are the number ones on the album, he’s antsy, thirsty, so, so fucking  _ horny -  _ V had made himself visible for the whole fucking deal, spread out on that damn barstool like  _ he’s  _ the VIP. Kerry knows he’s supposed to play to the crowd, but hell, half of the stuff on the album had been inspired by the fact that he fucking wakes up next to V every morning. Love messes with you, in ways that Kerry is finding to be pretty agreeable with him. So what if he looked at his husband most of the time, he’s allowed to.

He’s in the bathroom taking a piss, wondering if the next thing is gonna be about him  _ losing his edge.  _ Fuck no, he isn’t. Just changing directions. Trying to get his dick back in these pants with it being achingly hard and dripping is proving to be a challenge, so he’s just there at the urinal, muttering, fumbling, and Troy is probably wondering what the fucking is taking so long. Finally, he gets things back in order, washes his hands, smooths his hair back into place - and a little water splashed on his face helps too. Technically, this is all he’s obligated to, but he knows that he has to stick around for at least a  _ little  _ while longer.

Fuck. Can’t he just go home and chain his man to the bed for filthy, filthy acts of sexual depravity? His world for the press of V’s naked chest to his, seriously.

He steps out of the bathroom, fully expecting to find Troy - but he’s not there. Just V, leaning against the wall with his bowtie undone like Sinatra at the end of a set, a martini in one hand and the other shoved in his pocket. “Thirsty?” He steps forward and Kerry takes the drink, downing it in less than ten seconds, olives nearly swallowed whole. He’s on V in the next instant, pulling him down for a kiss, hard, needy, maybe a little more teeth than tenderness - and V gives right back, shoving him to the wall. “Fuck, yeah you are.”

“You show up looking like Armani hired you to just exist and you think I have my shit together? V, you’re bullshittin’ me.” He kisses him again, sucking V’s tongue, claiming his right yet again to this man’s affections. V slows them down, kicks a thigh between Kerry’s legs, puts his hands all over his body. Kerry moans, figuring they’ve got about ten more seconds before the vultures start to circle - but would he care? V looked like he did a pretty good job of handling them. “I’m ready to get the fuck out of here.”

“Oh, yeah - Lance gave me a message. Told the press that ‘Kerry is going home to work further on what you all heard here tonight, and asks that you be respective of the creative process.’ Didn’t realize that that fucking you til dawn was part of that but hey, anything I can do to try and help.” V grins and nuzzles Kerry’s jaw, finding the way to his ear and biting the lobe. “Car’s waiting, by the way.”

Kerry grabs his hand and leads him through the crowd, not exactly caring all that much if he doesn’t stop to say goodbye to the right people. Sure enough, the limo’s there at the curb, there’s a million more camera flashes, and then it’s all dropped away behind them. Kerry moves to straddle V’s thighs, sinking right back into the kiss he was giving him. “I’m ready for the real thing,” he huffs, grinding against V’s cock where it’s tenting his pants. “Next time,  _ I  _ get to pick the fucking plug that goes in me. Hard enough playing guitar, that thing nailed my prostate four times and I swear I was about to hit notes I didn’t realize I could.”

“ _ Next time,  _ I’ll just fuck you backstage. Like I did in Sacramento.” Another kiss, biting this time. “Portland.” Kerry moans, V’s fingers sliding into his hair. “Berlin.” Christ, there hadn’t been any condoms that time, and Kerry had busted without so much as a finger on himself all over a bunch of cables. Whoops. “But best behavior when we’re in town, right?”

“I fucking hope not.” Kerry slides to the floor and mouths at V’s dick, hungry beyond reason to get a deeper taste of his man. “Unzip, you bastard, I want you good and fucking ready when I get you upstairs.” V hooks him with a fucking  _ dirty  _ look - but his cock is pulled out, hard, leaking, and Kerry doesn’t waste any goddamn time getting his lips around it. V’s fingers anchor in his hair, and Kerry sucks him for his own pleasure as much as V’s. He slides the soft top of his throat over his tip, moaning, needy, better than any fucking drink that could be brought to him - even if V was naked in nothing but that damn bowtie.

“Fucking dirty mouthed _ fucker -”  _ Kerry’s got him down to the balls, his jaw stretched as far as it’ll go - the bump at the bottom of his driveway nearly gags him on it, but hey, all part of business. V backs him off and kisses him, licks the spit dripping down his jaw - and doesn’t fucking bother zipping up anyway. Just keeps himself out of view of their driver for the night. Good boy. Kerry’s already stripping on his way up the stairs, caught twice by V against the handrail to raid his mouth. “Dealer’s choice, baby - you get to ride me, or I bend you over the fucking mattress. Speak now or-”

Kerry shuts him up with a frantic kiss, moaning when V’s fingers dig deep into his bare hips. “On your back, V. Or I’ll tie you up myself.” He grabs his wrist and practically drags him the rest of the way, throwing the balcony doors open before shoving V down on the bed, stripping his pants and briefs away and leaving his husband completely naked - in a fucking cock ring, because of course he is. V already has the lube and is putting on a damned good show to get himself nice and slick. Kerry pulls the plug out of his ass with as much dignity as he can manage, tender as all hell from it - and kisses V deep while he’s lubed up. “You were fucking spectacular, by the way,” V says, breath hot on Kerry’s mouth. “Performance like that deserves praise.”

“How’s that gonna happen, exactly?” Kerry rocks back on his husband’s cock, teasing his stretched hole against him. “Cause I’ve got a few ideas about how we can best achieve that.” V’s hands catch his hips and  _ make  _ him sink down on his thick length, fucking up into him in a hot, eye-watering rush. “Christ, you feel  _ huge. _ ” He feels full, really, really full, hands braced on V’s chest to give him better leverage. V takes one of the gold chains around his neck and pulls him down, kissing him softly - in contrast with the heavy, dragging pace of his hips in and out of his body. He’s never asked where the hell V learned to fuck like he does, but hell, Kerry isn’t stopping to worry. With V, it’s just so much more freeing to  _ feel. _

V fucks him - yeah, he’s on top, but it’s V who’s putting the work in - like there’s some fast, driving beat that only he can hear off in the distance, increasing in pace and volume as their bodies move together. Kerry’s hair, styled as it was before, falls forward in a sweep across his forehead, loosened by sweat, V’s fingers in it, the rock of hips and sexual mutually assured destruction. “Kiss me, V,  _ fuck, please. _ ” It comes, and there’s teeth, a growl, his husband’s arms around his body. Pulling him in and under, until Kerry is toppled and rolled over. V’s hips punch into him, sweat dripping off his nose to Kerry’s body - he’s a mess of passion and need, his dark eyes meeting Kerry’s blues, looking past the surface lust and drinking in the commitment, the knowledge of  _ knowing  _ each other. Kerry feels like his lungs are on fire, trying to put out the gigantic fucking inferno of trying to find the words to tell V anything,  _ anything  _ he wants to hear.

Not just anyone steps into the mess of his life and says  _ bring it the fuck on.  _ And he did, tonight. God, he fucking did. V groans, dips his head and captures Kerry’s mouth again. “I’m close,” he says, and starts to fuck him fast. He’s got one hand punched into the mattress above Kerry’s left shoulder, the other pressed against his throat,  _ minemineminemine,  _ and that pressure alone, Christ on the fucking  _ moon  _ he could blow from that alone. He’s jerking his dick but V’s fucking him is doing just as good a job of getting him there, white-hot pleasure curling his toes, his body in towards V. He crashes his lips over Kerry’s mouth, growling, howling into his climax and filling Kerry up. His own orgasm makes his head swim, coming all over his stomach and chest, every bone in his body slush, melted pathways that let in too much dopamine.

V licks from the mix of come and sweat on his body and then drops it right back into his mouth, his dick still hard as rock and sliding back in, easy as anything from the  _ thoroughly  _ stretched gape of fucking him into the bed. “Not done with you yet, rocker boy.” V grabs his hips and drags him to the edge of the mattress, practically folding him in half to kiss him, all tongue and seed. Kerry is in no position to fucking argue.

He hooks Kerry’s knees over his elbows and lifts, sliding him down onto his cock, keeping him there until Kerry’s sweaty back is pressed to the thick windows overlooking the balcony - it’s actually heaven to his overheated body, and the angle gives V more than enough leverage to nail his sweet spot with every thrust. “You’re a fucking animal, V,  _ fuck. _ ” Another hungry kiss, the feeling of his husband’s come leaking out of him around the fill of his cock - held up solely by muscles that the damn tux was doing an all too good job of hugging. Kerry isn’t going to last long like this, fucked and held as he is - and V’s second orgasm follows soon after, the echo of the windows rattling sounding through the top floor of the house. Kerry spills handsfree very quickly after, spent, shaking, and down to the floor they go - with Kerry still on top of him, bent over V, indulging in another kiss. All of the adrenaline, the nerves of tonight, it hits him in that moment. Kerry buries his face in V’s neck, his body aching, and for now, spent. “I don’t know how many times I can say it but thanks for bein’ there tonight, V.”

“You know I’ll always show up, Ker.” He kisses him, gently, tenderly, running his thumb along the swollen pout of Kerry’s bottom lip. “Can’t say that having my picture taken is all that fun, but it wasn’t… it helped me understand better. The life  _ you  _ live.” Another kiss, deeper this time. “But I’d rather it be you seeing me.”

“Me too.” He runs his fingers through V’s hair, his breath slowing as he strokes the soft strands. “I won’t ask you to the next one, just because they aren’t  _ my  _ favorite thing, either. This? Right here? Yeah.” He pulls V up from the floor to sit in his lap, going for a deep kiss. The hunger for his body reawakens, kissing his way down V’s center line. His cock is hard again by the time that Kerry reaches it, and for the third time that day - or first time the next, depending on how it’s looked at, he sucks his husband’s cock, in absolute heaven as that taste overwhelms his senses. 

Of course, more is never really enough when it comes to V.

  
  


***

In spite of the massive drain on his energy that fucking three more times put on him the night before, Kerry’s anxiety still doesn’t let him rest. He’s not worried about the album -  _ Eurotrip  _ is gonna be fine - but he absolutely wants to see how… easy they went on V. He leaves his sleeping husband alone and takes his tablet downstairs, wearing only an open bathrobe, moving by rote to make coffee. He starts with  _ Bassline -  _ the friendliest - and is relieved to see there’s relatively little about V in there. There Kerry is, on stage, and towards the end of the write-up, the picture of him and V locked in that almost too intimate kiss. He gets a little dizzy, seeing it, but there’s a three line blurb with it:  _ Also in attendance was Mr. Eurodyne’s long-mysterious companion, V. We found out tonight that companion isn’t necessarily right - they’re married, and after seeing them together, it’s plenty easy to see where Kerry got his inspiration for this album. I wish them both well, especially if it yields more tracks like  _ And He’ll Come Along blah blah blah. Good. Kerry decides to keep that as the only one he reads - like he said, there’s not much else they can do to try and undermine him.

He takes his coffee out by the pool, the sun just showing its fullness as he sits down and closes the news out, looking out over the LA skyline as he takes his first sip. His heart’s at peace, quiet - in the best shape it’s been in for years. The notebook he had been working in yesterday before the party is still laying there on the patio, resting on the arm of the couch he’s sprawled on. He picks it up, settling in to work some more on the next verse of  _ Souls Down.  _ Maybe this one could be at the top of whatever’s next, so far, what he’s got is pretty fucking good.

“And you tell me that  _ I  _ work too much.” Kerry looks up and there’s V, wearing soft grey shorts and a sleepy, contented expression on his handsome face. “Was gettin’ cold up there, and then I look down out the window, boom, here you are. Mind if I keep you company while you write?” He’s already taking his spot next to Kerry, pressing a scruffy kiss to the side of his neck.

“Never, V - stay as long as you like.” He means that, too, in every way he can.

So far, V has never given him a reason to make him think otherwise.


End file.
